A History Forged
by Remful
Summary: It's over a century before the Valla Crisis, and the seeds of the Nohr/Hoshido hatred are being sown. A young King attempts to save his people, and damn the cost. A spoiled King struggles to lead a country that doesn't trust him. Forces clash, ties lay shattered, and history is forged.
1. Chapter 1

**This story is an attempt to explain _why_ Nohr and Hoshido hate one another. Whilst this could be considered part of my 'Into the Darkness' continuity, it isn't written exclusively for it.**

 **As this takes place _long_ before the events of the game, there will be a tonne of OCs. Some of the names may be the same, but they are totally different characters. **

**I do not own Fire Emblem.**

* * *

 _Castle Krakenburg. One hundred thirty years before 'The Valla Conflict'._

 _Court of King Florian IV of Nohr._

* * *

The new King shifted about on the throne, in a bid to get comfortable. He sighed softly, and rested his head on his hand, and looked at the small group now at the base of his throne.

At nineteen, he was far younger than many of his predecessors, his blonde hair kept in a somewhat feminine braid draped over one shoulder, his face clean shaven and his ceremonial armour shone in the brazier light. Brynhildr rested at his side. Florian kept his face as emotionless as he could as his Seneschal read a scroll to a crowd of Nobles.

The Capital had enjoyed nearly a century of rebuilding and growth under the reigns of three genuinely good and kind Kings. Castle Krakenburg had added to its great spire, placing a great beacon fire at its top. The Ice Tribe had sought sanctuary during the reign of his Grandfather, and had been granted land far south, in the mountainous regions near Cheve.

His mind drifted to his now deceased father. King Siegfried. The great man had been a peerless warrior, wielding the sword his own (somewhat mad) father had named him after. He had been a good father to him and his sisters, and despite their differences in skills, had encouraged him in his magical abilities, (even if he had tried to teach him some swordsmanship.) and had been genuinely proud the day Florian had taken up Brynhildr. He had married his daughters to the Grand Prince of Nestra and the Archduke of Izumo respectively, increasing ties to both Kingdoms (even if Nestra was technically an elective monarchy and effectively ruled by its many, many merchant Princes).

Sadly, death came to claim him early. At the age of forty, King Siegfried of Nohr died. It wasn't battle or combat that had claimed Siegfried however. An illness took a hold of him, causing him to die a slow, agonising death wasting away into nothing.

That had been a mere month ago.

Now here he was, unable to mourn yet expected to run a country. Expected to protect its peoples, provide for them and guide them.

* * *

Happily for him, the links his forefathers had created had weathered the transition

Links to Nestra had grown dramatically in the last few months, increasing trade between the two proud nations, Nestorian produce had eased the pain of the current food shortage, the army had started to learn Nestorian techniques, and a number of joint building projects had been started up between them both, Nohrian minerals and stones would help build Nestorian style structures. Florian himself had become engaged to one of the daughters of a Nestorian merchant Prince, one that owned a spectacularly large manse on the coast.

The relations with the various noble families had grown too. Many had turned to trade rather than fighting amongst themselves over scraps, and those that hadn't had been shunned until they had joined them.

That's not to say that they'd dismissed their armies completely, of course. Nohr had always prided itself on personal strength, and even the King was unwilling to let go of such a cornerstone of its culture.

Relations with Hoshido had….. _soured_ somewhat, however. Bandits basing themselves out of the neighbouring Kingdom had repeatedly raided their supply lines, and the Hoshidian King, a spoiled _brat_ in his early twenties, had been less than helpful in assisting in stopping them.

Which had led to the current trouble. Whilst they hadn't outright _assisted_ the bandits, Hoshido had denied access to Nohrian authorities, and even held a small group of soldiers' hostage after they strayed too close to the border.

"—ivate Chilliens, lowborn. Private Jalov, lowborn. Sergeant Kendells, minor noble..." Seneschal Brann droned on. He was a high born Noble, but by virtue of being a third born son, he was unlikely to inherit anything at all. Florian's father, King Siegfried, had taken him on in his last few years to ease the burden of rule. The man was in his late twenties, and had a pair of gold eyeglasses rested on his beak-like nose.

"Forgive me, Seneschal. I fail to see the point in reading out the names of people we are already aware need rescuing. We need not bring the court down with news of our continuing failure." Florian spoke in a careful, authoritative tone. "What exactly is Hoshido demanding?"

"More than the worth of the men, to be frank, Your Majesty." Brann said, his tone respectful, yet still carrying his years of experience. "They demand choice trade routes. They demand we lower import tax for our goods to them. They do go on a little, I'm afraid."

"They often do. Our dear neighbours do enjoy their….shall we say ...'Flowery' language." Florian jested. It earned the laugh he had needed. He was, admittedly, feeling a tad out of his depth, so lightening the mood a little, even if it was just pure sycophancy, eased his mind a little. "Regardless. I will not allow our countrymen to be held in the hands of a foreign power that is not one of our official allies. Send a message to the Hoshidian King and the Archduke of Izumo. Tell them we are willing to negotiate, but will only do so face-to-face. Inform them we will be bringing only a token force of soldiers for our own protection, and will only attack if provoked."

"Is that wise, Good King?" A noble from somewhere in the crowd. Florian wasn't certain of his name, but was fairly certain he was from somewhere close to the mountains, due to the fur lining his shoulderguards. "Izumo is close to Hoshido. It would be easy for them to sneak soldiers in, or even for Izumo to _ally_ with Hoshido! If we go, it could be all too easy for us to become trapped."

"True enough. But let me ask you something my lords..." The King said, standing up slowly, and striding into the centre of court. "Who are we?"

This earned him no shortage of blank looks.

"Who. Are. We?" He repeated in a calm voice.

"Your Majesty." One of the Border Lords spoke up, in a concerned tone. "I'm afraid we don't qui—"

"We are Nohrian!" Florian shouted, his arms thrown wide. "We pride ourselves on self-improvement via conflict and hardship. If we are trapped, is that not a form of hardship? Will those hostages not return better for the experience?! I ask you, my Lords, WHO ARE WE?"

"NOHRIAN!" A number of Lords, mainly those on the borders, yelled with gusto.

"Will you _deny_ yourselves glory? Will you not join me in freeing our brave, dutiful soldiers?"

"GLORY! GLORY!" More Lords joined in now.

"And will we show Hoshido what happens when you _fuck_ with Nohr?!"

"YES YOUR MAJESTY!" Every Lord and Lady added their voices to the growing cacophony, all voices melding into one single voice. The voice of Nohr itself.

"WHO ARE WE?!"

"NOHR! NOHR! NOHR!" The chanting of his people _shook the windows._

"WE ARE NOHR!" The King bellowed, to the sound of thundering applause. "AND WE TAKE WHAT WE NEED!"

Florian's voice had finally gave out, but it didn't matter. His point had been made and heard. The Lords, _his_ Lords, would aid him now. He prayed it was enough.

If not, he may well be remembered as the mad King who led his Kingdom to ruin.


	2. Chapter 2

Italics = Thought

I do not own Fire Emblem.

Cross published on A03

* * *

The sun slowly crept over the horizon, and over the endless fields, farms and rolling hills of Hoshido. The farmers of the country were starting to awaken for the day, and the morning cacophony of the morning birdsong filled the land. The hardworking people that kept the great machine that was their country got down to the usual business of the day.

In the Capital, however, the country's ruler was in no mood to wake up. His Glorious Majesty, The King of Hoshido, Takeo, groaned as a servant entered his room to rouse him for the day. He neither knew, nor cared what their name was, he was angry that he had been woken.

"Get out." He snapped in a raspy voice, and glared at them with bloodshot eyes. His head was pounding, his mouth dry, and he _needed_ more sleep. The last thing he needed was being disturbed.

The servant complied, and left the room with haste.

Now alone, Takeo tossed and turned in his fine, oversized bed, but could not return to the land of sleep. Cursing his luck, he slipped on a lounging robe, and called for the servant to return. When they did, he barked his first order of the day.

"Dress me. The silks from Nestra will do. Then I will have half a dozen peacock eggs to break my fast." He decreed. The servant nodded, and busied themselves with dressing their monarch.

Takeo let out a quiet wince as the servant tightened his kimono. "Not so much you fool! I still need to breathe!" He hissed venomously. The servant complied, and silently led him into the dining hall. Courtiers and courtesans that were flitting about stopped still, and bowed as their King approached.

"Greetings." Takeo said in an overly proud, authoritative tone as he draped himself on the throne. "Where are my eggs? I demanded eggs!"

"Your request hadn't reached us, Great King." One servant said. "We will get you them now."

"Do so." The King said, waving a hand dismissively. "And send in the council! I must do..Kingly..things. Hurry!"

The servants bowed, and went off to complete their duties. All knew it was a bad idea to stay near the King when he was angry. Which was often.

* * *

His councillors, a collection of wizened old men wearing gowns of varying colours walked in one by one. Mentally, he named them The Bald One, The Grey One, The Green One, The Red One and The Blue One. Names didn't matter.

"Great King." The Bald One bowed. "You called for us?"

"Yes." Takeo said airily. "I want an update on whether the Nohrian's have bowed to my will. Have they accepted my terms when it comes to the prisoners?"

"No, Great King." The Blue One said, adjusting his eyeglasses. "They have arranged a diplomatic conference in Izumo. We have been invited to discuss terms. In essence, these are peace negotiations for the whole continent."

"It would be wise to attend, Great King." The Bald One advised. "If only to save face."

Takeo let out a harsh laugh. "We're far superior to those foreign dogs. Any…. _peace negotiations_ we have will result in them getting what they want. Dogs must obey their master, in this case, us. They will get nothing from us. Save of course the heads of our trophies." An unsettlingly cheerful grin formed on his face.

"That is a bad idea, Great King." The eldest of his advisors, The Green One spoke up. "It will likely result in war."

"We can beat Nohr into the dirt, we'd only be fighting mindless beasts, it'd barely be a challenge…" Takeo said confidently.

"You must remember, Great King, it is Izumo is holding these talks, and Nestra will likely send someone. It would be…. _unfortunate_ if we didn't take the chance to talk with our neighbouring nations."

"Why? We live in the greatest nation in the world, why should we bother with meeting the rabble?"

"Those are just words, Great King. Words will not save us if they all ally against us! Nohr's military alone outnumbers ours!" The advisor in red lost his cool. "You may be King, but just because you say something does not make it true, especially regarding other nations."

Takeo stood up quickly, and pointed at the disagreeable councillor. "What is stopping me from having you killed?"

"Because he cannot be replaced. No one is as skilled in working out national production as he is." The eldest councillor, The Grey One intoned. "You cannot kill people that disagree with you, Great King. Whilst his tone…" He shot his colleague a glare. "Was poorly placed…he is not wrong."

The King growled in annoyance. "Fine. I will dine in my chambers. Do _not_ send anyone to talk with the filth. We are Hoshidian. The chosen people of the Dawn Dragon. We do not deal with beasts." He barked as he strode off, a few servants followed swiftly behind him.

The councillors shared the same, tired look.

It would be a long day.

* * *

The council met in their chamber later. All wore nervous looks on their faces.

"So…." The Red One started. "What do we do?"

"We act. As we always have." The Grey One said.

"Indeed. The council have been running the kingdom for nearly two centuries, whilst the Monarchs have been mere figureheads." The old man in green said stroking his wispy beard. "Why should this change? Send an envoy to this meeting on our….his majesty's behalf. If it works, he can claim credit, if not, we can deny it."

"Is it worth it?" The Bald One asked. "If he finds out we are the true rulers, our heads _will_ roll, to borrow a Nohrian phrase."

"If he discovers us." The Green One said. "We will _remove_ him and install his cousin as Queen. She seems more open to peace talks."

"No. Nola has no desire for the throne. We'd be better off with her brother, Shiro."

"True enough." The Blue One agreed. "…So, that's the plan then?"

"It appears so." The Bald One said. "If King Takeo finds out, we will replace him with Lord Shiro."


End file.
